Life and the Art of Lying —
Emily Schooley

To
quote her online bio:

Emily Schooley is a multi-passionate filmmaker who enjoys blending
genres and pushing boundaries in her work.

After
graduating from the University of Waterloo with an Honours BA in
Dramatic Arts, she quickly found herself immersed in the world of
film alongside her work in theatre, first as an actor and then
evolving to directing, writing, and producing. Now, she continues to
work as an actor while simultaneously building her body of work and
developing her voice as an emerging filmmaker.

Her
previous short film, Psyche,
won Audience Choice at Festigious International Film Festival. Emily
is a proud associate member of Film Fatales, and will be appearing in
MJI Studios’ upcoming documentary about women in the film industry.

But
I am not reviewing
Psyche1.
I am reviewing Life
and the Art of Lying.

Ah,
true love. The greatest impediment to true love: the people involved.

Charlie
likes Mara. Mara likes Charlie2. Everyone around them can see the
mutual attraction. If only Charlie would make the first move. If only
Mara would make the first move.

If
only Charlie weren’t keeping a huge secret from her friends, one
that makes a long-term relationship a risky investment. Habitually
secretive, Charlie grudgingly admits to incapacitating headaches.
What she doesn’t admit to is the reason why she has the headaches.

But
even the famously private Charlie can succumb to attraction.
Admitting how she feels is risky enough. What’s far more risky is
revealing to Mara that she has a serious medical condition and that
she intends to address it in a serious way.

All
love is transient; everyone dies. Some loves are more immediately
transient than others.

~oOo~

This
is spec-fic (though a border case) for reasons that would be spoilers
were I to reveal them. But I can say that (IMHO) the author is
overlooking some possible plot swerves. If she is reading this, I
will give her a hint: “Consider Martin Shkreli.”

As
of yesterday I had never viewed an LGBT romance flick that made me
think of C. S. Lewis. What a wonderful world this is, that has such
films in it! Although I would be astounded to learn that the
Lewis-Gresham relationship had been in Schooley’s mind when she
wrote this, there are some parallels.

My
readers know that I have little patience for romantic endeavours
approached in a hesitant, indecisive manner. Did Lord Cardigan
hesitate at Balaclava? Did Crassus dither at Carrhae? Did Henry II
pause before Legnica? Of course not! And romance is the same: strike
boldly, secure in the knowledge that the results may be mentioned in
hushed tones for centuries.

In
Charlie’s case, I am inclined to forgive her hesitancy, because her
situation requires full disclosure about mortality, which is
something a lot of doomed mayflies seem uncomfortable to acknowledge.
It seems that Charlie is correct to worry, given that Mara’s
initial reaction to the news is anger3. On the other hand, the
worst case scenario is that Mara rejects Charlie entirely, which only
puts Charlie where she was to begin with.

The
performances seem very Canadian, in a way I find hard to articulate.
It’s not the accents but the deliveries, which are in a style I
associate with Canadian performances (radio plays, amateur and
professional stage performances, and some film and television). Is
this a recognized school of performance or is it just people drawing
on the materials to which they are exposed? It’s perfectly
effective but also really distinctive.

Canadian
artists love death as a narrative full stop. Schooley sidesteps the
standard model by introducing the possibility early in her story.
Mortality is not the brick wall into which the story slams, but the
road on which this romance runs. The result is quite engaging.

The
full credits can
be found here.
Unfortunately, the film itself is not generally available (yet) but at least
I got to see it and isn’t that the important thing?

1:
You might wonder why I didn’t review Psyche.
The reason is simple: there’s a scene in it that happens to involve
one of my little phobias.

2:
I wonder what the odds are that of the five stories I reviewed from
Dec 18–24, four would feature LGBT relationships? If we take the
simplified (to the point of incorrectness) case where there are only
two genders and only couples, then of the four possible permutations
(ff, fm, mf, and mm), only two involve mf. And they could both
involve people who are T or B. Were you to consider the math of the
matter, you could regard a week of nothing but white-bread
mixed-gender relationships as statistically unconvincing.

By
the way, it turns out a lot of people dislike having their
relationships described as “statistically unconvincing.”

3:
Which I acknowledge falls within the range of plausible human
reactions while not understanding why some people react that way.
Rage is an engine without compare, but only productive if harnessed
correctly. Shouting at Charlie won’t make her less sick. Not to
mention that Charlie’s choices once she commits to Mara are either
“tell Mara what’s going on” or “let it come as a delightful
surprise,” and I am pretty sure the second one is much worse.